I haven’t come up with a list yet of poems to read. I plan to mix old and new, perhaps even some translations. Or I could play with a theme, music or music-related. I might post some of the poems here if I have the time. Otherwise, please hope I don’t bore the audience into trying to drown themselves in the nearest wineglass.

If the audience survives, or even likes my work, they might have a chance to buy the handful of copies of SOUND BEFORE WATER that I plan to bring with me.

Cape Town has had its own problems with its nuclear plant which, like the ones in Fukushima, are by the sea. A few years ago a wrench was found in a sensitive section of the reactor. There were also reports of the dwindling number of qualified technicians. These days power utility Eskom seems to have either managed the various problems or now employs good spin doctors.

The other night I suddenly recalled the horrifying footage we saw during the Fukushima disaster – of black waters wiping out everything in its path, cars, street poles, and even buildings that looked stable and unmovable. Shots filmed from a helicopter made you realize the extent of death and destruction.

And yet we forget. Or so easily get used to such events. There are ghosts. You know there are, and they will haunt us all.

By chance I discovered a stunning poem by a poet I had never before heard of. Toe Good Poetry which published one of my poems, “Parable of the Stupid Man,” not long ago, has featured Michaela A. Gabriel. Read the poem, listen to her reading. She’ll make you gasp for air!

In an earlier post I mentioned a poem that I didn’t expect would get noticed. Got a nice surprise this morning.

The current judges of the Goodreads.com Monthly Poetry! competition thought my poem has something special enough to be chosen as a finalist for the August Newsletter. It isn’t the biggest charmer among those chosen, but it’s got a lot going for it.

I’m not going to tell you that the other poems are not as good. Much of poetry comes down to taste. But if you want more than just a passing oooh and aaah, something that deals with more than just the pretty and easy, something that will make you stop for a moment and won’t let you slide back into the groove of the day, maybe you want to give this poem a chance.

If you do like it – odd as that may sound – please sign up with Goodreads.com and the Poetry! group in order to vote for it. And tell others. Or at least tell me here. One day the poem might end up in a future collection tentatively titled SKY FOR SILENT WINGS.

Had my fun. Thanks for reading this. Oh, that cat is our stray Caspian. He has nothing to do with the poem. He’s there to attract readers. 😛 Or scare them.

When I arrived here in Cape Town I worked briefly for a small company (mother and daughter owners) teaching little kids how to use the computer. It was an odd experience, but one of the many things I clearly remember was this strange sensation when I was referred to as someone who had come from “the Far East” – a phrase I’d never thought of.

For me, “the East” was not far at all. It’s home! And then if you really think about it, there is no East or West or North or South when you look at the globe. It’s a sphere and wherever you turn and keep going, you’ll end up just going round and round without reaching East, West, North, or South!

Here’s some good news. Often when one sends out a poem to a publication there is a huge chance it will get lost if not outright rejected. Well sometimes one gets lucky. I wrote about such an event – small as it may be – in my blog for Alien to Any Skin.